


Across the sea of space, the stars are other suns

by trisarawrtops



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6576856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trisarawrtops/pseuds/trisarawrtops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> "So what's the crew of the famous Patria doing on a small moon like St. Michel?".</i>
  <br/>
  <i> Enjolras blinks at him. "Repairing our ship," he says. And then, "and maybe inciting some revolutions before we leave." He smiles and it shows his teeth. </i>
</p><p>When Patria lands on his little moon, a past Grantaire had left behind suddenly becomes important.</p><p> <br/>Or, a Space AU with elements of Firefly, the Expanse and Star Trek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the sea of space, the stars are other suns

Patria is a beautiful ship, fast and powerful, designed to dole out death and destruction in equal parts. She had been the pride of the Fleet, a warship known as Bonaparte, until she had been stolen out from under the noses of the Alliance by a small group of rebels led by a man called Enjolras (and that is a story in and of itself, but not the one we're telling today). When she lands in St. Michel, she's a little worse for wear, having spent the last month dodging Alliance patrols.  
  
Grantaire leans against the wooden fence and watches her land, still powerful, sleek and beautiful and so out of place on their dusty little moon. She's a bit of a myth among the Outer planets: her crew, dubbed the Robin Hoods of space, have become a thorn in the side of the Alliance and have endeared themselves to the Outer planets by stealing Alliance food and medical supplies and inciting rebellion on Outer planets.  
  
The ship's engines shut down, and the main airlock opens. Grantaire watches a redheaded man exit and open a maintenance access panel on the side of the ship. He pulls out wires and tubes, pokes around a little bit, kicks the side of the ship in apparent frustration and disappears back inside, airlock doors closing behind him. Grantaire watches for a little while longer but no one else emerges. He sighs. Looks like the show's over.  
  
He scuffs his worn boots on the dusty ground as he walks back to the Corinthe, cutting through the town square, quiet under the afternoon sun but for some kids cutting class to play kickball. He spots Gavroche, but can't find it in him to send the kid back to school, settling instead on giving the boy what he hopes is a disapproving look. Gavroche doesn't even have the grace to look ashamed at getting caught, just kicks the ball back to his friends and cheers when someone scores. Grantaire really has to work on his disappointed face.  
  
The Corinthe is cool and dark inside. Eponine's behind the bar, cleaning a glass. "Your brother's cutting class," he tells her. She curses, taps out a message onto her communicator and gestures Grantaire to a stool. He sits, propping his elbows on the bar.  
  
"Find out anything about the ship?" she asks. They'd both heard Patria call for a landing clearance into St. Michel this morning on the radio Eponine keeps behind the bar.  
  
Grantaire shrugs. "Looks like they're doing some repairs," he tells her. Eponine nods, relaxes a little. If Patria's stopping long enough for repairs, it's likely she's gotten some distance on any Alliance patrols. 

  


The bar's quiet, and Grantaire pours himself a drink and wastes the rest of his shift building towers out of forks until Eponine knocks them down and makes him clean some tables. He flicks a towel at her in retaliation, and it makes her smile, loosening a little of the tension that still radiates from her. She'll be on edge until Patria's well clear of the system and the likelihood of an Alliance patrol stopping in drops back to essentially zero. St. Michel is known as a place that disagrees with the Alliance governance, but it's so small that patrols generally leave it alone, and that's the way Eponine likes it.  
  
Joly and Bossuet come in as his shift ends, and he's just grabbed a second round of drinks for the three of them when the door of the bar opens again and a god walks in. Okay, not a literal god, but the man has the face of an angel and blond hair that curls down to his unfairly chiseled jaw. He's accompanied by two men who look around the bar warily, as though they're ready to fight or run at the drop of a hat. One of the god's companions is the redheaded man who Grantaire had seen repairing Patria earlier this afternoon. The mechanic leans over the bar to talk to Eponine, and she points to the table that Grantaire, Bossuet and Joly have claimed as their own.  
  
The god looks over and Grantaire attempts to hide behind Bossuet, before remembering he's an adult and fully capable of potentially holding conversations with devastatingly attractive men, damnit.  
  
"Is one of you Bossuet?"  
  
It's the mechanic. Bossuet tilts his head and shrugs. "Depends who's asking." Grantaire elbows him. The mechanic glances behind him, and the god steps forward, snags a chair from the table next to them and sits, leaning forward.  
  
"My name is Enjolras," he says. "This is Feuilly" - he gestures to the mechanic - "and Combeferre. We're looking for someone who has experience with Chaîne engines."  
  
Bossuet nods and pulls in a chair for the mechanic, and Grantaire tunes them out. Bossuet can talk for hours about those engines. Instead, he looks at the god - Enjolras - so famous for stealing Patria from the Alliance, who's having what appears to be a silent conversation with Combeferre. Combeferre walks back to the bar, and Enjolras moves to stand up. Grantaire, whose brain-to-mouth filter around attractive men has always been questionable at best, and is essentially non-existent after a couple drinks, blurts out, "So what's the crew of the famous Patria doing on a small moon like St. Michel?".  
  
Enjolras blinks at him. "Repairing our ship," he says. And then, "and maybe inciting some revolutions before we leave." He smiles and it shows his teeth.  
  
Grantaire stares at Enjolras. "Inciting revolutions on St. Michel? There's like eight thousand people on this whole moon. What use would that be?"  
  
And that's when Grantaire learns Enjolras is even more beautiful when he's passionate about something. He's vehement that even a the smallest moon can make a difference, that the people will rise and overthrow the Alliance government, and that the Outer planets will finally get access to the same resources, schools and health system as the Inner planets have.  
  
He's so wrong and Grantaire tells him so. The Alliance is so huge, taking them down is impossible. Any senator they remove from power will be quickly replaced with another one just as terrible and corrupt. And if they mount an attack on the Capital, the rebels will be gunned down like animals before they get anywhere near the government buildings. It'll be a game to the Alliance.  
  
Enjolras glares at him. "So what do you suggest then? Just accept that you'll never have the same opportunities as those born on the Inner planets? That if you get sick out here, the Alliance will happily leave you to die rather than give you the healthcare you're entitled to? That if St. Michel's children were starving, the Alliance would sit back and watch, and count it as an acceptable loss in the expansion of the human race as we colonize the galaxy? Knowing that, how can you not rebel? How can you not want to overthrow the Alliance and replace it with a government of the people's choosing that actually cares about every planet under its governance?"  
  
Grantaire matches Enjolras's glare. "The Alliance are assholes, yes, I get that. But building an army of rebels and blindly throwing them at Alliance troops isn't going to do anything. Just like stealing food and medical supplies from the Alliance planets doesn't impact them at all. We're hardly more than an ant trying to hold back a waterfall! And the Alliance just labels rebels as terrorists, which pits the Inner planets against us." Grantaire can feel himself getting angry. "The only way to overthrow them is from within. Expose them, prove how corrupt they are, show the Inner planets all the shit that happens under the table. And good luck proving any of that, because if the Alliance is good at one thing, it's covering things up. You'll never catch Patr--". Grantaire closes his mouth abruptly and curses his lack of brain-to-mouth filter.  
  
And then Enjolras is grabbing him by the shirt and shoving him against the wall. "You seem to know an awful lot about corruption in the Alliance government," he snarls. "Care to tell me why?"  
  
Suddenly Eponine is there. "Let's take this to the back room, boys," she says. It's not a suggestion. Her hand is tucked under her jacket, where Grantaire knows she carries at least one knife. He immediately feels a whole lot better about this entire situation.  
  
Joly, who is now sitting with Bossuet, Feuilly and Combeferre, moves to join them. Bossuet also stands up, and Feuilly and Combeferre look to Enjolras. Grantaire shakes his head at Joly and Bossuet and he watches Enjolras, whose hand is still fisted in his shirt, have another silent conversation with Combeferre.  
  
Enjolras releases him, and they follow Eponine to the back room. Enjolras stays close behind him, silent and glaring, as though he's afraid if he steps back, Grantaire will bolt. He did briefly consider it, but not for the reasons Enjolras might think: it's entirely possible Eponine is going to gut him with that knife she's carrying and he'd rather not get blood all over the Corinthe, because she'll make him clean it up.  
  
Eponine closes the door behind them. Enjolras immediately turns to Grantaire, all righteous fury, but Eponine steps between them. Grantaire's not above hiding behind Eponine. He's seen her take down men twice her size. Enjolras has no chance.  
  
"We're going to do this like the civilized adults we're all pretending to be," Eponine tells them. "We're going to give you some information, and in return, you're going to leave this moon as soon as your ship's repaired."  
Grantaire's surprised. He'd expected Eponine to just kick Enjolras out of her bar. Enjolras glares at her. "What do you know?"  
  
Grantaire turns to Eponine; it's mostly her story, after all. "Tell him," she says to him. "Are you sure?" he asks her. Eponine doesn't like to talk about their past, and rarely gives up information about herself. None of their friends on St. Michel know this story. She nods. "It might be our best shot at ending them."  
  
Grantaire looks at Enjolras. He's been following their exchange closely, eyes narrowed, less angry and more curious than when he'd thrown Grantaire into the wall.  
  
He might as well start at the beginning, with the name that got him into all this trouble in the first place.  
  
"You've heard of Patron-Minette?"  
  
Enjolras nods. He still looks a little suspicious. "We've seen that name in some documents. It's always associated with something shady, but we can never find solid evidence. Combeferre thinks there's a lot more going on and we're trying to prove it, overthrow them from within as you put it. He's been searching for them for months now."  
  
Grantaire nods. That doesn't surprise him. Patron-Minette is good at making things disappear when they don't want people to find something out.  
  
"Combeferre is right. Patron-Minette is a cover name for a group that does all the dirty work for the Alliance. You name it, they'll do it. They'll make shipments to the Outer planets disappear. They'll rig elections. They'll make anyone who disagrees with the way the Alliance runs things really question their life choices."  
  
"He means Patron-Minnette has no qualms about torturing people the Alliance doesn't like," Eponine points out helpfully. Grantaire scrubs his face with his hand. He's not drunk enough for this conversation.  
  
"How do you know all this?" Enjolras asks.  
  
"They made me question my life choices," Grantaire says.  
  
"They tortured you? For what?" Enjolras's eyes are wide, shocked.  
  
"That's not the sort of thing I share on a first date," Grantaire winks. He has a bad habit of masking his feelings with flippancy. Maybe it's a character flaw, but right now he doesn't care. Eponine elbows him in the gut. He glares at her; she glares back. Okay, maybe he deserved that.  
  
"Let's just say I disagreed with something I saw them doing, and they disagreed with me disagreeing." He still remembers seeing Gavroche, just six at the time, kicked out of his house with bruises on his arms and face, left to roam the streets with nothing but a little backpack of stuff he'd managed to steal from his parents. Grantaire had bought the boy a sandwich, and Eponine, who'd been frantically searching for her little brother, found them and punched Grantaire in the face because she thought he was a trafficker. It had been the start of a beautiful friendship. Eponine and Gavroche had crashed at his little apartment, the three of them crammed into two small rooms, while Eponine tried to secure them a shuttle off the planet.  
  
The day before they'd been due to leave, Patron-Minette had found them. They wanted Eponine. She knew too much and they couldn't let her off the planet. Grantaire had blocked the apartment door with his body while Eponine and Gavroche climbed out the window and darted away on the rooftops, with a promise they'd all meet up at the shuttle yard. Instead, Patron-Minette had taken Grantaire back with them, put him in a chair, and applied electricity, heat and brute force in an attempt to find out where Eponine had been planning on going. Grantaire would like it noted that he's not any kind of hero. The only reason Patron-Minette didn't find out where Eponine was headed was because Grantaire himself didn't know. When he'd decided to leave the planet with them, he'd just given Eponine money, trusting her to secure transportation and new identities for them all. She hadn't told him any details, specifically for this reason.  
  
Grantaire's still not sure how long he was with Patron-Minette -- time flows weirdly when you're periodically being tortured -- but Eponine says it took her a couple days to find out where they were keeping him. All Grantaire knows is that suddenly, one night, a ceiling panel moved above his head and Gavroche's little head stuck out, then a rope dropped to the ground. Despite his numerous cuts, burns, three broken ribs, and a broken right wrist, Grantaire's never climbed anything so fast in his life.  
  
A blur of shuttles later, and Grantaire, Eponine and Gavroche had finally arrived on the little moon of St. Michel. That had been five years ago. Now Gavroche's strong, healthy and apparently skipping school, Eponine basically owns the Corinthe, and Grantaire splits his time between bartending, keeping an eye on Gavroche and hanging out with Joly and Bossuet. And now they're here, standing in front of an angry god who's convinced he can change the galaxy.  
  
Eponine takes over while Grantaire wrestles his mind back to the present. She's his best friend for a reason. "There's two senators you should look into," she tells Enjolras. "Montparnasse and Babet. They both have strong ties to Patron-Minette."  
  
Enjolras nods, opens his mouth to say something, but Eponine cuts him off. "And Thénardier. Find him. He leads the organization."  
  
Grantaire's heart goes cold. He hasn't heard that name in five years, not since the man himself had spent hours torturing Grantaire to try to find his daughter. Eponine had dropped that last name when, barely seventeen, she'd taken her brother and ran.  
  
"Thénardier," Enjolras repeats. "Do you know where to start looking?" Eponine nods. Grantaire nods too. They've been tracking her family since they escaped, with Eponine filling Grantaire in on everything she knows.  
  
"You should come with us," Enjolras tells them. "You could really help --"  
  
Eponine cuts him off. "No. I can't. I have a life here. I have my brother to raise, but even if I didn't, I still wouldn't go. If the Alliance found out I was with you, they'll kill you all so fast you won't even see them coming."  
  
Enjolras clearly has questions, and Grantaire shakes his head at him, hoping he'll get the hint and leave it. Shockingly, Enjolras appears to understand.  
  
Enjolras is looking at him now. It's intimidating, being under the direct gaze of an angry angel. "What about you? If you were with us, would the Alliance kill us all?"  
  
Grantaire thinks about it. Patron-Minette only had him for a few days five years ago. He'd been a skinny teenager, just old enough to be considered a legal adult, with shaggy curls that had hung in front of his eyes. He's stronger now, tanned and muscular rather than pale and skinny -- life on the Outer planets inherently involves outdoor physical labour -- and older, capable of growing proper facial hair and getting a decent haircut. If he travels under a different name, it's unlikely Patron-Minette will recognize him at first glance. Even Thénardier, who spent the most time with Grantaire, would probably need to look closely to recognize him. And he has no intention of getting close enough for any member of Patron-Minette to be able to see him.  
  
So then the question becomes, does he want to join this avenging angel on his quest to right everything in the galaxy? Can the cynic in him believe that change is possible? He can believe Enjolras will fight to the bitter end, but can one man ever make a difference?  
  
Enjolras is still waiting for an answer.  
  
"I'm not as popular as Eponine. They'd probably leave me alone," he says. "But I'm not sure you need a cynic in your revolution." He's not sure he wants to leave the relative safety of St. Michel and go headlong into a fight he doesn't believe can be won. He's not sure he's ready to hunt down the man that left him with permanent scars and nightmares that still won't go away.  
  
Enjolras scowls, and Grantaire remembers his earlier insistence that every moon or planet, no matter how small, can make a difference. Maybe he thinks that about people too. Grantaire half-thinks they're going to have another argument about it, but Enjolras seems to know when to cut his losses.  
  
"We'll be leaving as soon as our engine is repaired," he says. "There's space for you on board if you change your mind." He pauses, and Grantaire thinks he's gotten off easy, until -- "You have an opportunity to change the face of the galaxy we live in, to save the lives of millions of people, to overthrow massive corruption, and to get back at the people who tortured you and who would kill your friend without second thought. Even a cynic must see the value in that."  
  
With that, he turns on his heel and walks back into the main room of the bar, closing the door again behind him. Grantaire looks down at Eponine. "Fuck, I need a drink," he tells her. She nods, then steps forward and leans her head against his chest. He wraps his arms around her, and they stand together, just breathing, holding tight. 

  


When they step back into the bar, it's nearly empty. The table that Bossuet, Joly and the Patria crew were sitting at is partly cleared, glasses stacked neatly on top of each other, and there's a credit chip next to the dishes. Grantaire is briefly grateful to Enjolras for clearing the others out. He loves Bossuet and Joly, but he can't talk to them about this right now. Eponine sweeps the credit chip into her hand, and goes behind the bar to pull out a bottle of the strong liquor she keeps hidden. She pours them both a generous glass and Grantaire drinks his in one go. Eponine, bless her heart, doesn't even say anything, just pours him another. 

It's dark when they leave the bar, stars out and planetshine from the planet they orbit lighting their way. If he looks closely, Grantaire can see the bands of colour around the planet, massive clouds that make colossal storms that can last for hundreds of years. It makes him feel small.  
  
Without talking about it, he and Eponine walk towards the landing platform where Patria is still docked. Gavroche, who'd come into the Corinthe around dinner time, runs ahead, kicking his ball so it bounces off rocks and buildings.  
  
Patria is lit up by spotlights. He can see Bossuet, hanging by a harness, half inside a maintenance access hole. Patria's mechanic, Feuilly, hands him a wrench. Joly is watching from the ground, with what must be the rest of the Patria crew. There's five or six of them milling around the base of the ship, loading supplies and carrying tools. Grantaire can see Enjolras's distinctive blond hair as he crouches down to pick up a box.  
  
He and Eponine lean against the wooden fence that surrounds the landing platform. Gavroche, seeing Joly, jumps the fence and darts closer to the ship. Eponine makes no move to stop him, so Grantaire leaves him to it. He may as well get a close look at the ship - the last time he saw one anywhere near as nice, they'd been on the run and he'd been six years old. He's got to be curious.  
  
Grantaire wraps his arm around Eponine's shoulder, watches Gavroche in the distance, talking with Joly and pointing up at the ship in excitement. Maybe Enjolras is right. Maybe this little crew can make a difference. Maybe this is his chance to do something with his life. And maybe he owes it to Eponine and Gavroche, and even to his past self, to ruin the man and the organization that had made their lives living hell.  
  
"Ep, I think I'm going to go," he says.  
  
She nods, turns and hugs him tight. "I knew you would," she says. Her eyes are shining. 

* --- * --- *

Bossuet's gotten Patria's engines fixed by midday the next day. He comes into the Corinthe where Grantaire's sitting with a small bag at his feet. Grantaire waves him over. He's going to need to say goodbye.

He tells Bossuet he's going with the crew of the Patria, and to ask Eponine to tell him why. He feels bad, but it's still not his story to tell. He'll ask Eponine to explain as much as she feels comfortable to Bossuet and Joly before he leaves.

Bossuet just looks at him. "You can tell me yourself. I'm going with you." Grantaire stares at him in surprise. Bossuet nods. "That's why I'm here. I was coming to say goodbye. Patria needs a mechanic who's familiar with her engines, and I've always wanted to fly in a real starship. Joly's coming too. I told them I wouldn't go without him, and they need a medic anyway." At that moment, the door to the Corinthe opens, and Joly enters, as if summoned by his name. "Grantaire's going with us," Bossuet tells him. Joly beams.

They walk together to the landing platform. Eponine's with them, and she's pulled Gavroche out of school for the day. The boy is unusually quiet, sticking close to Grantaire's side. Patria's even more stunning up close. Grantaire can see the ports for her massive guns, and the marks on her body from Alliance fire and it strikes him for the first time exactly what he's doing. It's possible this is a suicide mission.  
  
He grabs Gavroche tight, lifting him a little and kissing the top of his head. The kid reaches his chest now and Grantaire has no idea how tall he'll be when he sees him next. When Grantaire releases him, Gavroche scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand.  
  
He pulls Eponine into his arms and kisses her cheek. She grabs his face, looks into his eyes. "Come back," she tells him. He nods, swallows over the lump in his throat.  
  
Bossuet and Joly lead him through Patria's open airlock. He hears the hiss of the hydraulics as the door starts to close behind them, and looks back. Eponine's standing there, arm around Gavroche's shoulders, feet firmly planted on the dusty ground. He blinks back tears as the door shuts, and prays to a god he's never truly believed in that he'll see them again. 

  


Patria is just as beautiful inside as she is outside, sleek and modern, all her edges smoothed into curves so when she goes into battle, there's no sharp corners to injure her occupants. Bossuet and Joly lead him to the bridge. Enjolras is seated in the captain's chair, dressed in a red jacket, his blond curls tied out of his face. He smiles when they enter the bridge. "I was hoping you'd come," he tells Grantaire. Grantaire chooses to believe that the swooping feeling in his stomach is just excitement at being on such a powerful warship.  
  
Joly introduces him to the rest of the crew as the ship lifts off: Coufeyrac, the pilot, with his dark hair and bright smile, Jehan, responsible for communications, who's wearing the ugliest shirt Grantaire has ever seen, and Bahorel, their weapons officer, huge and imposing. Feuilly, the redheaded mechanic, pulls Bossuet into a discussion about engines, and Combeferre, Enjolras's silent conversation companion, throws a star chart onto Patria's main screen.  
  
"Combeferre is the navigator," Joly tells Grantaire. "And the chief information gatherer, if that can be a title. He's good with computers." How Joly always finds so much out about people he's just met is beyond Grantaire.  
"We all do a little bit of everything," Combeferre tells him. He smiles, and it reaches his eyes, blue behind his glasses. "Welcome aboard." He raises his voice. "Since Enjolras isn't doing anything right now, he can show you where your rooms are."  
  
Enjolras unfolds himself from his captain's chair and gestures for Grantaire and Joly to follow him. Grantaire raises an eyebrow at Bossuet, still talking with Feuilly, and Bossuet waves them off. "I have most of his stuff anyway," Joly says, lifting his bag onto his shoulder.  
  
Enjolras shows them to the crew quarters, pointing out places on the way. Patria is a standard warship, intended to be crewed by fifteen. With the addition of Grantaire, Bossuet and Joly, the crew reaches nine. Grantaire figures he's going to learn a lot about how a starship works in the near future. Enjolras stops them at Joly and Bossuet's room first. He shows Joly how to enter his handprint to set a lock on the room. "As the medic, you'll get a medical override to all rooms in the ship. Don't abuse it," Enjolras tells him.  
  
"Being hungover doesn't count as a medical emergency, Joly," Grantaire is quick to add. Joly only rolls his eyes at him.  
  
Grantaire's room is next door. Enjolras tells him to drop his bag, and then come meet him to start to go over what he knows about Patron-Minette. Grantaire snaps a quick picture of his room, small but comfortable, with a single bed and a desk and a little porthole that shows space outside. He looks out the porthole. St. Michel is too small to see at this distance, its host planet barely the size of a small pebble, stripes blurring together to make it look brownish. He feels a pang of homesickness.  
  
Grantaire sends the photo of his room and a quick message to Eponine and Gavroche, telling them he loves them and he'll get in touch when he can. Once they're outside of St. Michel's star system, communications back to the little moon will be a lot more complicated, and more dangerous because they may be routed through Alliance communications centres.  
  
He sets off down the hall, following Enjolras's directions to what he can only describe as a war room. Its walls are plastered with star charts and maps of planets and there's a big table with a screen on it in the middle of the room. Models of various ships sit on top, ready to be moved around to plan a battle. Enjolras shuts the screen off before he can get a good look at it, and pulls a chair in with his foot, indicating that Grantaire should sit.  
"Tell me where to find Patron-Minette," Enjolras commands. Grantaire nods. He and Eponine has spent a few hours last night going through everything they know about Patron-Minette and Thénardier. All that information was copied to an data chip that's now sitting in his pocket. He hands the chip to Enjolras who plugs it into the table, pulling up a hologram of the file contents before giving control over to Grantaire. Grantaire spends the next few hours going over maps of planets, names of people, locations of safehouses and Patron-Minette's organizational structure.  
  
He and Enjolras clash more than once, Enjolras's undying belief in the people at odds with Grantaire's cynicism. Grantaire calls Enjolras rash for pushing for immediate action and visible rebellion, and Enjolras calls Grantaire a coward for wanting to do this quietly. That's when Grantaire gets up and leaves. So maybe he is a coward, but he doesn't have to hear it from Enjolras.  
  
Grantaire ends up in Joly and Bossuet's room, curled up in the middle of their bed, Joly running gentle fingers through his curls. It's soothing, and Grantaire ends up telling them everything, the story of how he found Gavroche in the streets, how he and Eponine and Gavroche had planned to leave the planet, how Patron-Minette had found them and tortured him, how Eponine and Gavroche had rescued him, and how they'd finally made their way to St. Michel. Joly wraps him in a tight hug afterwards, whispering comforting words into his ear. Bossuet punches his arm lightly for keeping such a secret for so long, then joins the hug, handing Grantaire a flask of liquor. Grantaire takes a sip and hands it back. They pass it around a few more times, then Bossuet caps it and moves to put it away. Grantaire puts on his best sad face. "It's all we've got on this ship, Grantaire," Bossuet tells him. He hands Grantaire the flask one more time anyway, because he's a wonderful person.  
  
Grantaire falls asleep where he is, curled safely between Joly and Bossuet, and wakes up halfway through the night because he's way too hot. Apparently Joly, despite being a small man, is both a furnace and an octopus when he sleeps. Grantaire doesn't know how Bossuet deals with it. He briefly considers going to his own room, then rejects the idea. Instead, he pushes Joly's limbs off him and climbs over Bossuet so he's closest to the wall. Joly immediately latches his octopus limbs onto Bossuet and Grantaire almost laughs out loud. Let Bossuet deal with him, Grantaire thinks as sleep takes him again. At least he gets sex out of it. 

*---*---*

Grantaire settles into a rhythm on Patria. He spends most of his time with Combeferre or Enjolras or both, combing through information Combeferre has hacked from the Alliance communications stations, cross-referencing it with Grantaire's files and looking for anything that can condemn Patron-Minette. Combeferre has been following up on Grantaire's information, searching names and locations, but there's only so much he can do from space. They really need to be on one of the Inner planets to get access to the kind of information they want, and they're still a couple months out from the Inner region of the galaxy.  
  
When he's not going through information, Grantaire spends time with the rest of the crew. Courfeyrac, the pilot, who's basically a giant puppy in human form, takes it upon himself to introduce Grantaire, Joly and Bossuet to the varied joys of living on a warship, which include, but are not limited to, long hours of flying through empty space with very little to do, brief moments of fear and adrenaline when they enter the range of an Alliance patrol, and intense games of poker in which Grantaire learns never to trust the communications officer, Jehan. Jehan introduces them to his favourite time-wasting game of messing with the food replicator to create the most bizarre and questionable meals. To Jehan's delight, Joly is excellent at this. Grantaire starts refusing to eat anything Joly hands to him, but Bossuet, unlucky or brave, somehow ends up tasting the worst of Joly's creations.  
  
When learning that Grantaire, thanks to Eponine, knows hand-to-hand combat, Bahorel, the huge weapons officer, invites him to spar. They use the ship's small recreation room, and the rest of the crew often come by to watch and cheer. Enjolras joins in regularly, watching with a smile on his face, and it makes Grantaire's stomach jump every time. Bahorel tells him he fights better when Enjolras is there, as though he's got something to prove, or someone to impress. Maybe he does.  
  
As they travel closer to the Inner region, Enjolras holds regular meetings with everyone on board. He works with the crew to make plans, plotting which planet they're going to attempt to land on and how exactly they're going to get the information they need when they get there. Enjolras is pushing breaking into the government's computer network, operating under the assumption that that network will be the most likely to hold the information he needs. Grantaire tells him he's crazy, that breaking into the most secure computer network in the galaxy will never work. Enjolras scowls and comes back the next day with a list of locations that have access to the government network, with the ones that are least heavily guarded highlighted.  
  
It soon becomes a game for Grantaire to pick apart Enjolras's craziest plans. He and Joly and Bossuet sit at a table at the back of the dining room where Enjolras holds his meetings, and when Enjolras says something particularly idealistic or unrealistic, Grantaire scoffs and counters. If there were any more alcohol on this ship, Grantaire would make a drinking game out of this. Sometimes Enjolras ignores him, sometimes Grantaire's comments trigger an argument. In their most memorable argument, Enjolras ends up standing on a table, eyes blazing, vehemently certain that a rebellion will take hold. He's beautiful like this, full of passion and fire, with such faith in the people. He could inspire whole star systems. He loves the people, and the people will love him.  
  
And that's when Grantaire realizes he has a problem. It's possible his crush on Enjolras's pretty face might be more than just a crush. 

  


In time, a plan is made. Still in the Outer planets, they'll gather a group of rebels. They'll travel with this group to an Inner planet with a seat in the Alliance government and stage a peaceful protest. While the protest is occurring, they'll break into the government buildings and steal as much information as they can. They've even picked an Inner planet target, a watery place called Les Halles. Just barely close enough to Terra to be considered an Inner planet, Les Halles is said to sympathize with, or at least not condemn, the Outer planets. It's far enough from the Capital that Alliance military presence should be minimal, and close enough to Patria's current location that they should be able to reach it in about ten days at a steady burn. Its capital city, Montfermeil, is also in Grantaire's files as a likely location for a Patron-Minette post, and it will have access to the Alliance's government network.  
  
They need to gather rebels. Courfeyrac suggests filming Enjolras and broadcasting a copy to each star system they pass, using the star system's own communication network. It's risky because the Alliance could intercept the broadcast, but it'll reach more people that way, and it's not like they're going to put out the fact that they're actually planning to break into a government building in the video. They're billing it as a peaceful protest, a march to show the Alliance it's time to take the Outer planets seriously.  
  
Grantaire watches from the other side of the room while they film. Enjolras is on the bridge, stars bright points on the viewscreen behind him. He's wearing his red jacket, and his blond curls are down. When he speaks, he's dynamic, bright, fire incarnate. He speaks of a chance to take a stand for a better future, a future where the Outer planets are equal, where children will no longer starve, where the government listens to what the people want. Watching him, Grantaire can hardly breathe. Enjolras is born for this, born to lead revolutions, born to incite the people to fight, born to change the face of the galaxy. For the first time since this all started, Grantaire believes. He believes in Enjolras, and he believes that the people will see the power of his message and believe too. 

  


They send out the video and wait. Within a day, they've got another ship following them. Three days in, they have five. By the time they reach Les Halles's system, there are fourteen ships with them. Enjolras's people have risen. They gather near a planet on the outer edge of the Les Halles system to plan their march. Enjolras goes from ship to ship in his red jacket, meeting the people who've come to make a stand. Grantaire takes the time to write a message to Eponine, outlining what they've done and where they are. He sets it to send tomorrow morning. Either they'll make it back to the ship before then, and he can stop the message, or they won't make it back, and Eponine needs to know why.  
  
They land in Montfermeil, the capital of Les Halles, in the morning, fifteen ships streaming into the busy landing ports. Patria uses a patch that Combeferre wrote to trick Montfermeil's landing clearance system into thinking she's a legitimate Alliance ship.  
  
Enjolras leads them to the main street of the old city, which leads to the town square, and they unfurl banners and flags, and wave them in the air. Grantaire sees some that read "EGALITE", some that have a stylized flag representing the Outer planets, and some that are just plain red, matching Enjolras's jacket. They march down the main street, jubilant and loud. The residents of Montfermeil come out of their houses and watch. Some even cheer and join in. Grantaire sees Combeferre and Bahorel, the weapons specialist, slip away towards the government buildings. When they reach the town square some time later, he's almost convinced they'll pull this off. That's when fully-armed Alliance soldiers swarm out from behind buildings.  
  
The soldiers cut them off on all sides, lining the roads that enter the square, trapping them inside. They stand, guns across their chests, unmoving. Enjolras grabs a red flag from the man next to him and climbs a statue at the centre of the square. The crowd goes quiet, and Enjolras speaks. He speaks of the rights of the people, he speaks of an equal future, he speaks of an opportunity to change the face of the galaxy. He's fire, and the people are tinder, waiting to burn. The crowd cheers in renewed excitement.  
  
And then Grantaire hears the sharp crack of a gun. A man standing on the base of Enjolras's statue falls to the ground and the crowd goes wild, pushing and seething, trying to break out of the square. Bossuet, standing closest to Enjolras, yanks him down from the statue by the back of his jacket. As Enjolras tumbles to the ground, Bossuet lets out a cry and falls back. Grantaire sees blood bloom red on his shoulder.  
  
Grantaire moves as the same time as Joly, both rushing to Bossuet's side. Joly's immediately got his hands on the wound, trying to hold the blood in.  
  
"We have to get out of here!" Grantaire tells him. He can no longer see Jehan, Courfeyrac and Feuilly, lost in the seething crowd. Joly nods and Grantaire wrestles Bossuet into a sitting position, and he and Joly lift the bleeding man to his feet. Joly keeps one hand plastered tight to Bossuet's shoulder.  
  
Enjolras is still by the statue, gathering the people, directing them to fight. Grantaire calls to him, but he doesn't listen. The soldiers are still shooting, aiming towards Enjolras's blond head and red jacket.  
  
"We have to go now!" Joly yells. Grantaire reaches back, wraps his hand tightly around Enjolras's wrist and runs. Enjolras protests but Grantaire ignores him. They dart through the crowd, pushing towards one of the small alleyways at the edge of the square.  
  
Grantaire leads them around an abandoned building, ducking inside and behind a pile of rubble. Joly stops, leaning Bossuet against the wall of the building. Bossuet's frighteningly pale and his shirt is completely red, blood still exiting the wound.  
  
"I have to treat this," Joly tells them. "We can't keep running." He hands Grantaire the medical kit he'd insisted on bringing this morning and tells him to find bandages.  
  
Enjolras pulls out his communicator and scowls at it. "We need to find Combeferre and Bahorel before the Alliance soldiers do. They've missed their check-in."  
  
Grantaire looks at Joly, but he's not listening. He's got Bossuet's shirt cut off and he's spraying a hemostatic agent into the wound. He sticks his hand out and Grantaire hands him a field bandage. It's quiet but for Bossuet's heavy breathing until Joly's got the wound covered. Then Joly sits back and looks at Enjolras.  
  
"Bossuet's not going anywhere except back to the ship." He looks down at the blood on his hands and Grantaire can see tears form in his eyes.  
  
Enjolras nods. "Take him, I'll go by myself." Grantaire stares at him. This man is volunteering to go towards almost certain death without even blinking. He's really not sure what possesses him when he tells Enjolras he'll go along. Enjolras looks surprised, but then he smiles, holds out his hand and says, "Come on then."  
  
Grantaire presses a quick kiss to Joly's cheek, then to Bossuet's, firmly telling himself it's not a goodbye for either of them, and takes Enjolras's hand. Enjolras pulls him back out to the alleyway. He's got a focused, steely look in his eyes. Grantaire pities anyone who comes between Enjolras and the government buildings they're heading towards.  
There's an Alliance soldier with his throat cut lying at the entrance to the alley. Enjolras immediately goes to him, pulls his rifle from his dead hands and checks it for ammunition. He looks up at Grantaire. "Can you shoot?"  
  
Grantaire nods. Eponine taught him years ago. "Good," Enjolras tells him, handing him the rifle and taking the soldier's handgun for himself. Grantaire takes the dead man's gun, briefly wondering what happened to the fiery man who stood on the statue. This Enjolras is less fire and more cold steel, sharp and unyielding, capable of being terrible.  
  
They cut through the back alleys of Montfermeil, ducking around corners and pressing their backs against walls when Alliance soldiers pass. Grantaire can still hear gunshots echoing from the town square.  
  
They're maybe a block from the government buildings when the patrol finds them. There's eight men, all heavily armed. Enjolras and Grantaire are out-manned and out-gunned. Grantaire grabs Enjolras and darts down another alley, mentally thanking whoever laid out this city for making it so convoluted. He can hear the sounds of Enjolras's gun as he fires at their pursuers.  
  
Grantaire takes turns at random, until the sound of pursuing gunfire fades. He stops, leans against the wall of a building to catch his breath, and that's when he realizes Enjolras is no longer with him. He looks down the alley he just came from and sees no one. He can feel the panic setting in, making his breath come fast. Enjolras had been right behind him and now he's gone.  
  
Grantaire slides down the wall, trying to breathe. Enjolras is going to die. Bossuet is going to die. Joly's probably going to die too, getting Bossuet back to the ship. This whole rebellion is doomed to end in blood. There's too many soldiers, too many guns, too many people who don't care.  
  
The sound of gunfire and shouting is all around. Grantaire presses his head to his knees, trying to marshal his thoughts, decide what to do, when suddenly, silence. The silence is what causes Grantaire to look up. Enjolras is at the other end of the alley, standing proud, head held high. There's two guards with their rifles trained on him. Seeing Enjolras with guns pointed at him has the same effect as a bucket of cold water on Grantaire. He fumbles for his own rifle, lying on the ground next to him.  
  
One guard asks, "You're the leader of this revolution?" Enjolras nods. The guards look to each other, press their rifles into their shoulders, pause. Enjolras spreads his arms. "Shoot me," he challenges them.  
Grantaire has one chance at this. He breathes out. The bullet sings as it flies from the barrel of his rifle. The soldier closest to him collapses, dead before he hits the ground, bullet in his brain. The other soldier's shot goes wide as he looks around in surprise.  
  
Enjolras springs into motion, whipping the second soldier across the face with his handgun. The soldier drops to the ground and Enjolras kicks him in the head, hard. Grantaire stands up, stepping forward to meet Enjolras. Enjolras's eyes go wide. He crosses the alley in quick steps, pulls Grantaire tight to him, fingers firm on Grantaire's jaw. He leans forward to press their mouths together. "I thought they had gotten you," he breathes against Grantaire's lips.  
  
Grantaire's brain has officially shut down. He pulls away in confusion to stare at Enjolras, who tilts his head down and murmurs an apology. Grantaire's brain comes back online abruptly. He shakes his head. "No, don't apologize." Enjolras looks up, meets his eyes. His smile makes him look younger, less the revolutionary leader and more the unfairly beautiful young man. Grantaire can't help himself. He kisses Enjolras quickly before stepping away. "We're talking about this when there's not hundreds of soldiers chasing us," he says, as firmly as he can. Enjolras nods, smile still on his face as he turns back to the soldiers lying on the ground.  
  
"Shit, that was a good shot," Enjolras says, looking at the soldier Grantaire had killed. "Eponine," Grantaire explains. He's still coming to terms with the fact that _Enjolras just kissed him_ . Enjolras rolls the soldier over with his foot, pulling spare ammunition from the dead man's belt. He loads his handgun, repeats the procedure with the other soldier, tossing the extra ammunition to Grantaire -- "since you're such a good shot," he says.  
  
At the end of the alley, Grantaire can see the government buildings less than half a block away. He points, and Enjolras nods, looks around the street. There's no visible soldiers. "Let's run," he says.  
  
The door's unlocked -- Combeferre and Bahorel must have made it this far. Enjolras pulls out his communicator. "They're upstairs," he says. "Combeferre's hurt. There's soldiers."  
  
Enjolras leads them up the stairs and down a hall, confident. He must have memorized the map of the building Combeferre had found. They round a corner, and there's soldiers, huddled together looking at a communicator. Enjolras puts his hand on Grantaire's chest, silently pushing him back down the hall from which they came. They move quiet as they can back down the hall, turning down corridors seemingly at random, Grantaire following Enjolras's lead.  
  
They reach a door. Enjolras taps a pattern on it gently, and it cracks open. A rifle is immediately shoved in his face and Grantaire's heart freezes. The rifle lowers, and Bahorel opens the door fully, gesturing them inside. Combeferre's on the ground with blood on his pants, a belt around his leg acting as a tourniquet.  
  
Enjolras is immediately beside him, swearing. "I'm fine," Combeferre says. "Didn't hit any arteries. I just can't run." He holds up a data chip, smiling. "Got this though."  
  
"How are we going to get out of here?" Bahorel asks. Grantaire remembers the last time he escaped a building he was trapped in, Eponine and Gavroche leading him through a maze of passageways between walls.  
  
"If this is a Patron-Minette building, it might have hidden passageways," he says.  
  
"That would have been useful to get into the building," Bahorel grumbles.  
  
"They'll be alarmed," Grantaire tells him. He remembers Eponine carefully resetting the alarm system as they left the building. "You'd have come out to a room full of soldiers."  
  
"We're going to set off an alarm?" Combeferre asks. Grantaire nods. "Probably when we exit the building."  
  
"We'll have a head start, at least. It's our best shot," Enjolras says. "How do we find hidden passageways?"  
  
Grantaire holds his hand out for Combeferre's communicator which still displays a map of the building. He points to the map. "Thicker walls." Enjolras leans over the screen, shoulder pressing into Grantaire's. Grantaire ignores the jump in his stomach. He points to a room on the map. "There. Two doors over."  
  
They lift Combeferre, and he slings his arms over Enjolras's shoulder. Enjolras holds his handgun out to Grantaire with a questioning look. Grantaire shakes his head. He prefers the rifle.  
  
Bahorel leads them out, gun held ready, with Combeferre and Enjolras right behind. Grantaire follows. They're nearly at the door when a soldier rounds the corner. He looks surprised to see them. He raises his gun, but Grantaire is faster. The soldier drops to the floor.  
  
They reach the door. Bahorel tries the handle but it's locked. He steps back, kicks the door hard. Grantaire can hear the wood cracking. Bahorel kicks it again and it opens. They're in some kind of office and Grantaire can see a bookshelf at the back of the room. He closes the broken door behind them so it's less obvious to the Alliance soldiers they're inside, and goes to the bookshelf. Bahorel follows him, and they pull as much as they can off the shelves. Suddenly the bookshelf moves. Bahorel grins. He's pulling on a candlestick, tilting it away from the wall.  
  
They pile into the dark passageway behind, Bahorel taking the lead again. Enjolras, face lit by Combeferre's communicator, hisses directions at him as they run. They burst out into sunlight at the back of the building and Grantaire hears an alarm sound as the door closes behind them.  
  
"Head for the ship," Enjolras tells them. Combeferre stumbles, and Enjolras lurches into Grantaire. Bahorel grabs them before they go down, pulling Combeferre out from under Enjolras's arm. He lifts Combeferre onto his back and they run.  
  
They're barely around the side of the building when a man with a rifle steps out. Grantaire feels himself go cold. The last time he'd seen this man, he'd strapped Grantaire to a metal table and passed an electric current through his body, demanding to know where his daughter was.  
  
Enjolras, beside Grantaire, must have felt his reaction because he looks to Grantaire with a question in his eyes. "Thénardier," Grantaire whispers.  
  
Enjolras's face turns cold and hard. He raises his gun and empties the entire clip into Thénardier's chest before the man even has a chance to see what's coming. Grantaire's shaking. Enjolras reaches for his hand, wrapping their fingers together.  
  
Grantaire hears yells. The gunshots seem to have drawn the attention of the Alliance soldiers. "Fucking shit fuck," Bahorel says. Grantaire silently agrees. They've got nowhere to run and are running out of bullets.  
And then, the distinctive whir of a Chaîne engine breaks through the commotion and Patria opens fire. It's possibly the most beautiful sound Grantaire's ever heard in his life. Patria lands in the middle of the street, blocking the soldiers, and her main airlock opens. Enjolras tugs Grantaire's hand and they run to the ship, Bahorel, still carrying Combeferre, on their heels. As soon as the door closes behind them, Patria's off. Grantaire is pressed towards the floor as she accelerates abruptly away from the planet, heading for open space. Enjolras is still holding his hand.  
  
When they can move again, Bahorel opens the other side of the airlock and carries Combeferre towards medical. Grantaire's mouth goes dry. Did Bossuet and Joly make it to the ship? Enjolras untangles their fingers. "Go," he says. "I'll be on the bridge when you get back." Grantaire nods and runs.  
  
Joly's helping Combeferre onto a bed when Grantaire arrives in medical. He looks up at the sound of the door and darts to Grantaire, flinging his arms around him. Grantaire holds him tight for a minute, but then he has to know. "Bossuet?" he asks. Joly smiles, points to a bed that's hidden by a privacy screen. "He'll be fine. The whole crew will be," Joly tells him. "Patria's medical bay is well-stocked."  
  
Grantaire releases Joly so he can tend to Combeferre, and ducks behind the privacy screen around Bossuet's bed. Bossuet's hooked up to an IV but he grins sleepily when Grantaire arrives. "R!" he slurs. "Joly gave me good drugs." He giggles a little. Grantaire steps forward and kisses his forehead. Bossuet reaches up with his good arm and pats at Grantaire's face. It's more of a slap. "'m glad you're alive," Bossuet tells him. Grantaire's eyes prick with tears and he kneels beside Bossuet's bed, pressing his face into the mattress. Bossuet attempts to pat his hair, but ends up with his hand resting next to Grantaire's face. Grantaire picks up his hand, holding it between his own. "I'm glad you're alive too," he tells Bossuet.  
  
He stays with Bossuet until the other man is asleep, just listening to his steady breathing. Bahorel's gone and Joly's got his hands in Combeferre's leg when he leaves. Joly spares him a quick smile before turning back to the stitches he's putting in Combeferre.  
  
Grantaire makes his way to his room, suddenly exhausted. He leaves the door unlocked so Joly can come in when he's done and cancels the message he wrote to Eponine only this morning. He writes a new one, brief, vague, enough to say they're all alive, with a promise of more details when he's got a secure connection.  
  
He flops onto his bed, feels the tears coming. He desperately wants a drink, but there's nothing on this ship. He curls into himself on the bed and falls into an uneasy sleep. His dreams are filled with pain and death: Thénardier chases him, brandishing an electrical lead, Bossuet bleeds out while Joly cries, Enjolras stands in front of a window brandishing a red flag and soldiers shoot him down.  
  
Enjolras finds him like this, curled in a ball with tears on his cheeks. "You didn't come to the bridge," he says. Grantaire murmurs an apology, but Enjolras just shakes his head. "Do you want me to leave?" Grantaire shakes his head vehemently and holds his arms out. He doesn't want to let Enjolras out of his sight ever again.  
  
Enjolras shrugs out of his red jacket, laying it on Grantaire's desk, and climbs onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Grantaire's body. Grantaire presses his ear to Enjolras's chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart, so alive. "Are you ok?" Enjolras asks him. Grantaire considers it, then shakes his head.  
  
"Thénardier," he says. Enjolras looks down at him. "He was the one who tortured me." Enjolras's arms tighten around him. "He's Eponine's dad." Okay, Eponine might kill him for that.  
  
Grantaire can see the shock in Enjolras's eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but Grantaire covers his lips with his fingers. He breathes deeply for a moment, then, "I found Gavroche on the streets one day."  
  
Enjolras holds him tight while Grantaire tells him how he found Gavroche and Eponine, gained first-hand knowledge of Thénardier's cruelty, and how he, Eponine and Gavroche escaped and started new lives on St. Michel. When he's done, he feels drained, but also somehow lighter. Enjolras's eyes are fiery, burning with righteous anger. "I'm glad I killed him," he says.  
  
Grantaire can't help but laugh at that, pure relief, a little hysterical. It's finally over, they're finally free. He imagines Eponine's reaction when she finds out Enjolras emptied an entire clip into her father's chest. It's possible Enjolras will replace Grantaire as Eponine's new best friend. Enjolras looks pleased when Grantaire tells him this. Grantaire tries to pout at him but Enjolras kisses the pout right off his lips.  
  
Grantaire swears his heart skips a beat. Enjolras's lips are soft but insistent, a little aggressive, and Grantaire happily cedes control.  
  
"You said we were going to talk about this when we weren't running away from soldiers," Grantaire tells Enjolras after they pull apart. Enjolras arches an eyebrow. "If I remember correctly, you were the one who said that." Grantaire punches his chest lightly. Enjolras just wraps his arms tighter and pulls Grantaire in closer. This close, Enjolras's eyes are very blue. It's a little distracting.  
  
Enjolras drops a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I like you, you apparently like me, I kissed you in that alley because I realized I didn't want to die without kissing you at least once," he says. "I would like to go back to the kissing now," he adds.  
  
Grantaire shakes his head, exercising all of his self-control. He takes a second to be proud of himself. "We argue all the time, how can you like me?"  
  
Enjolras's scowl is impressive. "I could ask you exactly the same question," he points out. Okay, maybe he has a point. But.  
  
"You have so much fire in you, so much passion. Looking at you is a little like looking at a star. You're amazing. That's why I like you," Grantaire tells him. "Also you're distractingly hot," he adds.  
  
Enjolras grins at that. "You push me, you challenge me, you're brilliant and brave. Your mind, Grantaire. When you argue with me, I just..." he trails off, as though he's lost for words. Grantaire can feel his face colouring. He tucks his head into Enjolras's chest, revelling in the fact that he's allowed to do this now. Enjolras reaches down, tilts his chin up. "Also I'm not the only distractingly hot person in this room," he says, still grinning.  
  
"So modest," Grantaire mutters. Enjolras laughs, rolling to pin Grantaire beneath him, pressing kisses along his jaw. "You said it first." Grantaire can't think of any witty response because all of the blood in his brain has suddenly decided to flow somewhere else. Good call, blood, he thinks absently. When Enjolras next leans down to kiss him, Grantaire meets him halfway.

  


Joly releases Combeferre from medical within a few hours, leg stitched and blood replenished, and Enjolras gathers the crew to the dining area. When Grantaire arrives, he's ambushed by Courfeyrac, who's got a bruise on his cheek, and Jehan, who's got scrapes along his arms. "You're alive!" Courfeyrac crows as he flings his arms around Grantaire. He's stepping back when his eyes suddenly light up and he pokes at Grantaire's neck. Grantaire resists the urge to clamp his hands over the bruise he knows is there. It's not his fault Enjolras is part vampire. "About fucking time," Courfeyrac says.  
  
Enjolras calls the meeting to order. Jehan goes back to his usual table, but Courfeyrac plants himself in a chair next to Grantaire -- to keep him company, he says, since Bossuet's still asleep in medical and Joly's napping with him. Grantaire doesn't trust him one bit. Courfeyrac nods at Enjolras. "Does he have matching bruises on his neck?" he asks innocently. Grantaire curses his inability to prevent a blush. He pointedly ignores Courfeyrac's knowing grin, turning to face the front of the room. 

  


Combeferre sends them all copies of the files he stole, with instructions to go through them and flag things that look suspicious. It becomes immediately evident this will be an easy job. The files explicitly state transactions between members of the Alliance government and Patron-Minette, with names, dates, targets. Supply ships intended for the Outer planets that were suddenly rerouted to Inner planets. Money that was meant to build infrastructure that went to buy the silence of senators. People that have suddenly disappeared. It makes Grantaire's stomach hurt when he looks at it.  
  
They make another video: again, Enjolras stands on the bridge in his red jacket. He summarizes what was in the files and what happened in Montfermeil. He calls members of the government corrupt, traitors, outlines how they've betrayed the very people they were elected to protect. He reveals that, during a peaceful march in Montfermeil, Alliance soldiers, acting under direct order of the government, slaughtered 93 people and injured 291 others. He calls for action, tells the citizens of the Inner planets that it's time to take a stand, it's time to join the Outer planets and demand the government be put on trial for what it's done. He's incandescent, wild and Grantaire's in love. The moment he realizes that, it's like the world suddenly becomes sharper, clearer.  
  
The second Courfeyrac declares the video acceptable, Grantaire is by Enjolras's side, dragging him off the bridge. Enjolras comes willingly, matching Grantaire's biting kisses fiercely. He's laughing a little against Grantaire's lips. "You like my speeches?"  
  
Grantaire pulls away enough to breathe. "I love your speeches," he says. He's not ready to say the shorter version of that sentence, but it's in there. "You're incred--" Enjolras unapologetically cuts him off with a kiss. Grantaire's not complaining. 

  


They release Enjolras's video and all the files they stole onto the interstellar communications network just before they exit the Inner region, using the last, little-used, Alliance communications outpost in hopes that their message will travel far before the Alliance shuts it down. As they travel to the Outer planets, they'll continue to send the message, passing it directly to the planets that aren't well serviced by Alliance communications.  
  
Grantaire sends a message to Eponine, letting her know they're on their way home. He includes Enjolras's video and tells her about her father. The message will take some time to get to her, looping through the slow Outer planet network, hopping its way between little moons and small planets until it finally reaches St. Michel.  
  
They're less than a month from St. Michel, retracing their steps back past the planets that joined them in their march on Montfermeil. Grantaire wiles away his time climbing through the innards of the ship and learning what makes her run with Feuilly and Bossuet, who's nearly fully healed, sparring with Bahorel, and spending time with Enjolras. Enjolras still comes to watch the sparring, and Grantaire learns quickly he's there because he finds it hot. Grantaire may or may not exploit the hell out of this.  
  
Enjolras and Grantaire still argue. The only difference is, arguments now end in Grantaire being shoved against a wall, Enjolras's clever mouth sucking marks onto his neck, nimble fingers making quick work of his clothes. Grantaire kind of loves it. After a particularly heated argument on the bridge, Courfeyrac loudly tells Combeferre arguing is their version of foreplay. Grantaire blushes because it's kind of true. Enjolras looks sort of proud. 

  


It's about a week into their return journey when they get a message from one of the planets they pass. The Alliance is in turmoil, government in shambles. The people are demanding reparation for the government's actions, ordering the resignation of more than half of Alliance senators, insisting on a more transparent government, refusing to stand down.  
  
That night, as Grantaire runs his tongue down the planes of Enjolras's body, he marvels at the man spread out beneath him, the man who believed so strongly in the people, who refused to allow injustice stand, who convinced a whole galaxy to demand equality, justice and truth. 

  


When Patria reaches St. Michel's system, Jeanne Lamarque, a senator who had always been sympathetic to the Outer planets, with a platform built on equality and tolerance, has been elected as temporary Prime Minister. She's already started the shipment of emergency supplies to the most disadvantaged Outer planets, mostly new colonies, planets that the Alliance government and Patron-Minette had consciously left to starve.  
  
Patria lands in St. Michel in the early evening, churning up a cloud of dust as she touches down. Grantaire's by the airlock even before her engines shut off. When the doors open and the dust clears, Grantaire can see Eponine and Gavroche, her arm around his shoulders exactly how Grantaire left them. It's almost as if they haven't moved in the four months he's been gone.  
  
Grantaire's first out of the ship. Eponine wraps him in a tight hug, murmurs, "I'm glad you're back." Gavroche shoves his way into the hug, worming his way between their bodies.  
  
Eponine steps back, letting Gavroche in, and Grantaire pulls the boy to him, lifting him off the ground and swinging him in a little circle. Gavroche cheers and Grantaire hefts him a little higher before setting him down. It's been four months and the kid still only goes up to Grantaire's chest. Grantaire feels warmth bubbling up in his throat, intensely glad he's back, that they're all finally safe, alive, and that, despite all the changes in the galaxy, Gavroche, and St. Michel too, is still just the same.  
  
When Enjolras comes out of the airlock, Eponine goes to him. Grantaire can't hear what they're saying, but Eponine reaches out and gives Enjolras a one-armed hug before she steps away, smile on her face.  
  
Eponine takes the Patria crew back to the Corinthe. There's another woman behind the bar who smiles as they arrive. Eponine introduces her as Musichetta -- Grantaire's replacement, she teases. Grantaire elbows her for that. Eponine elbows back. Grantaire had forgotten how sharp her elbows are. Musichetta starts the crew on a round of drinks, sending them off to tables. Grantaire slides into his usual seat, sitting with Joly, Bossuet and Eponine, only this time, Enjolras sits next to him, and the rest of the crew piles around, dragging tables in. They're raucous, excited, disbelieving that they've truly succeeded.  
  
It's dark when the crew has finally finished, and Grantaire is surprisingly sober, having spent the night nursing his drinks and watching his friends, curled comfortably between Eponine and Enjolras. He leads Enjolras out into the town, and they walk, shoulders brushing, not quite ready to turn in. Grantaire's feet eventually lead them to the landing pad, and he leans against the wooden fence there, Enjolras beside him. Four months ago, he stood here watching Patria land, afraid her coming could herald the arrival of a Patron-Minette-supported Alliance patrol. Now, as he looks up at the ship, silhouetted against the night sky, he's happy, safe, standing side by side with a man he loves.  
  
"What will you do now that you've overthrown the entire government and changed the face of the galaxy?" Grantaire asks, turning to look at Enjolras.  
  
"There's always more work to do," Enjolras tells him. "We need to make sure the new government holds true to its promises, we need to make sure the people who need support are getting it and we need to be there to remind the government that they can't go down the same paths they went down before." He meets Grantaire's gaze. Grantaire can see the sky above reflected in Enjolras's eyes, whole galaxies small pinpricks of light in a sea of deep blue. "Will you help us?" Enjolras asks.  
  
"If you'll have me," Grantaire responds. He takes Enjolras's hand and Enjolras smiles and kisses him under the stars. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom! Concrit is welcome. 
> 
> All of the moon/planet names are real places in Les Mis or in modern-day Paris:  
> \- St. Michel is the street that the Musain is on  
> \- Les Halles is the street/area in modern Paris where the barricades were built  
> \- Montfermeil is the location of the Thenardier inn
> 
> Title from the one and only Carl Sagan


End file.
